Nothing is the Same
by Luxor Nautalis
Summary: I wonder, sometimes, if she knows that it's you that I think of whenever I make love to her. I wonder if she knows that, when I look at her, all I can see is you. What would she say, if she knew?


**Disclaimer;** I do not own Law and Order: SVU, their characters, their plot, theme or names, and I do not claim ownership to them. However, I DO claim ownership to my writing, so please don't steal =)

**Authors Note:** I was inspired to write this at around three o' clock in the morning, running off a coffee and sugar high, so forgive me if it's positively horrible. I might add additional chapters with Alex's and Casey's POV, but for now, it's a oneshot...unless I get tons of enthusiastic reviews demanding more! ;D

**Rating;** M

**Pair;** Olivia x Alex / Olivia x Casey

Nothing is the same.

I close my eyes as I kiss my way down her body. If I concentrate hard enough, I can imagine it's you underneath me, arching into my touch and moaning my name. But it's not.

The voice is different, more throaty, raspier.

The quivering body beneath mind is different, exponentially so.

Your skin is just a tad paler. The freckle I love so much, the one located mid-way down your stomach, just above your hip bone is missing. The slight dimples just above your navel are gone. Your breasts are fuller, softer against my hands.

When I open my eyes, it's strawberry blonde hair that meets them, not your own platinum blond. It's not blue eyes I'm looking into, it's green. The nose is different, the lips fuller. There's a mole on her face in a place where there is none on yours. Those sexy black-frame glasses, the ones that make my stomach drop ten floors whenever I see them are missing. Your nipples are a lighter rosy color, in sharp contrast to her deep pink.

She's not you. She never will be.

But if I concentrate hard enough, if I close my eyes and picture your body beneath mine instead of hers, I can make myself believe it. Her voice changes, becoming yours. Her skin lightens, just a tad. Her hair becomes blond, with just the right amount of highlights. I kiss the place where your freckle should be, where there is none on her. My lips move toward the exact place where I know, intimately, that your dimples will be. You loved to be kissed there...

And as I slip my hand between her legs and rub my fingers along the slick heat I find there, her voice becomes yours, moaning my name.

I slowly slip two fingers inside, my mouth moving, from the dimples that don't exist on her body but do on yours, to her center. My lips find their way to her clit, and I suck it deeply into my mouth, rolling my tongue over it as she thrashes in pleasure.

It it were you, your legs would snake around my waist, holding me tighter. If it were you, the voice moaning would be louder. If it were you, my name would fall more often from your lips, along with wild words that never failed to drive me crazy.

_Fuck, Liv. Harder. God, fuck me harder baby. Liv..._

I can hear your voice gasp in my head, even as hers speaks to my ears.

"Oh God, Liv...Don't stop...Please, don't stop."

You would never sound so desperate. You would never think for a second that I would ever stop. You would never beg me.

Alexandra Cabot is too dignified to beg, even when I brought you to that point of desperation. You would demand me to touch you, demand me to fuck you, to make love to you, but never beg. Even when you used words like 'please', you were always asking, never begging.

But she begs, and sometimes, it drives me crazy. It's why it's your voice in my head I hear, and not hers.

When I make her come, her tight, hot walls clenching around my fingers, she groans deep in her throat, sounding more like a growl than anything else. You would scream. You would scream my name until your throat was hoarse.

She lays there, spent, her chest rising and falling in rapid, desperate pants, her once-again strawberry blond hair strewn around her shoulders and messy. I slowly slide up her body, kissing my way up her body back to her mouth, imagining it's a different body I'm kissing. When my lips find hers, fuller than yours and swollen from our heated kisses before, her hands lift to link behind my shoulders, fingertips brushing occasionally against my neck and back. Yours would have threaded in my hair.

Finally, we break apart, my eyes meeting hers for a moment before I spoon up behind her. She snuggles deeper into my embrace, like you so often did. Only you would always be facing me. Your bright blue eyes would look into mine, and we would spend minutes, hours just looking into each others eyes, seeing the love, the adoration reflected there. My arms would be wrapped around your waist as yours would be around mine, and our legs would tangle together, molding our bodies together perfectly. We would share a kiss or two, and I would nuzzle into her neck, placing a soft, gentle kiss on the place where your neck meets your collar bone, and you would purr with satisfaction.

But I don't do that, not with her. I always place my front to her back, always make sure she's looking away from me. I can't bear to hold her like I used to hold you, to look into her eyes and wish for yours. I can't bear to let her see that she will never mean anything close to what you mean to me. So, I hold her loosly, one arm slung across her waist. Her arm covers mine, her hand holding mine, but I don't let our fingers twine together.

If it was you, I would be clinging to you, pulling you as close as possible and tracing soft patterns on your toned back. If it were you, the scent I would be breathing in would be of vanilla, not cinnamon. If it were you, our fingers would be interlocked, and you would be rubbing your thumb across my knuckles. If it were you...everything would be different. But it's not.

I wonder, sometimes, if she knows that it's you that I think of whenever I make love to her. I wonder if she knows that, when I look at her, all I can see is you. What would she say, if she knew? Would she be angry? Would she accept it and take what small part of me I have to give? Would she hate me? Would she hate you? If she knows, she hasn't said anything, and I can only hope that, if she does know, she never will.

She shifts against me, the arm clinging to mine tightening even in her sleep hazed state, and I can make out her mumbling. "I love you, Liv."

She says it every night after we make love, and every night, all I can hear is you saying those words to me, whispering them against my collar bone as I pull you close and nuzzle into your beautiful blonde hair. I never say "I love you Casey," back to her. I can't bring myself to speak the words. All I can say, in the deep recesses of my mind, away from her adoring green eyes is _I love you Alex..._

I make sure she's asleep before I slip out of her arms and out of my bed. I grab the robe from the floor and slip it on, wrapping my arms around my waist even as I head to the window. It's raining tonight, the window pane decorated with irregular drops. On the street below, an occasional figure scuttles by, protected under an umbrella or newspaper.

I look to the sky, only to find what I already know; It's darkened by storm clouds, luminous and oppressive. Even if the clouds weren't there, I know there would be no stars...the city is too bright for stars. But I still wish that I could look up at the sky and study the stars and wonder if you're wherever you are doing the same.

It's late by the time I drag myself from the window and back to bed. I slip under the covers, reassuming my former position behind her. She mumbles and shifts closer, but she never wakes.

As soon as I slid from the bed, you would have noticed I was missing. It's like you knew...whenever I wasn't there with you, you could sense I was gone. I wouldn't be from the bed long before you called me back, or sneak up behind me and slid your arms around my waist, asking what was on my mind.

She just sleeps on, as if I was never gone...as if I was never there.

You always knew when I was gone. You always made sure I knew I was there. It was little things you said, little gestures to let me know how much you loved me.

And, as I finally feel exhaustion overcome me, and sleep begin to claim me, you're the last thought on my mind.

Always.


End file.
